As I walk past the dresser where my vanity mirror stands attached, I see a lipstick heart on the glass. I smile to myself as I see a little message underneath ‘see you soon you sexy bitch’. I giggle at Leighton’s words, missing him already. My heart is aching for him and my pussy throbs with abandonment as it craves his love.
I kiss my fingers and lay them on top of the lipstick heart. “I love you baby, I miss you already.” I leave it there, and there it will stay until he returns to me, to show him how much I love his tiny message, how thoughtful it is.
I make my way across the landing. As I walk past Melissa’s room, I see her on top of the changing table, her little body dried by a fluffy towel. “You didn’t need to do that hun,” I tell Maria as she clears her of the water droplets, her already big belly bumping against the wood of the drawers below.
“I know, but I wanted to.” She smiles to me, looking a little happier than earlier, a little more chilled.
“Here, go chuck these on, get yourself comfy. I’ll get her changed and down for the night.” I take the towel from her and pass her the articles of lounge clothing.
“Cheers for this hun, I really appreciate it.” She walks from the room, probably to mine, to get herself changed.
“What a lovely auntie you have Melissa. Let’s get you into some clothes, Princess, and then get you some milk for bedtime.” I powder her perfectly soft skin, slipping on a new nappy and a full body baby grow. Picking her up and wrapping her in my arms, I lean in and smell her. God, why do babies have to smell so good? It makes me want a million more of them.
It is getting late well, for my daughter anyway. She is usually down and asleep by now. It is half eight in the evening and she is laying down in my arms, smiling and giggling up at me, her teeny tiny hands grabbing fallen tendrils that are around my face. “Ouch, that hurts mamma baby girl,” I say to her, as I manoeuvre my lock out of her fist. I stroke her nose with my knuckle, feeling so fucking happy, so on top of the world, not even Zeus with a poxy lightning bolt, can knock me off my pedestal.
“They fit perfectly,” I hear Maria call, as she walks into the lounge where I am now seated feeding Melissa. I don’t even have to hold the bottle anymore, her hands are big enough to clasp it and drink herself. I am so proud of her, of how advanced she is and how well she is developing.
“Good, I’m glad. Now, what shall we eat?” I ask her, my belly rumbling with hunger, not having eaten since this morning.
“Oh god, definitely Chinese, I’ve been dying for it all week.” I know there is no point in asking. Maria loves Chinese food, probably as much, if not more, than she does those twins.
“You had it yesterday Maria; you rang me to tell me how good it was.”
“Hey, what the babies want, the babies get.” She winks at me.
“That’s right; blame the children for your stupid addiction. Poor kids are gonna get the blame for all your misdemeanours aren’t they?” She giggles back at me, a sparkle in her eyes as I mention her children.
“Probably. Their dads won’t be any better, they’ll probably lay the blame even more, and Ant, god that man will turn them into bloody monsters. I dread getting them back after they stay with him.” She rubs her hand over her protruding belly, relaxing into the sofa.
“Hey, fatty, get off your ass and order food, my tummy is hungry. Mel’s nearly asleep so by the time I get her down it’ll be here.” She is on her feet in seconds, skidding to a halt at the unit that holds the take-away menus.
“What…” she starts to say.
“Sweet and sour chicken, Hong Kong style,” I shout back, knowing full well she is asking my order.
“Good choice,” she replies as she dials the Chinese restaurant.
I watch as my daughter fights with all her might against her tiredness, her eyes closing and opening hard, closing again, then forcing themselves to stay open. I gently stroke her forehead, the gentle tickling causing them to seal shut and stay there. Her bottle falls from her grasp and rolls onto the sofa. Her little lip is pouted out; still in the place the bottle had forced it.
“Off to bed baby,” I whisper to her as I stand from the sofa and take the stairs to her room. I lay her little sleeping body in the cot, covering her with her blanket and switching the little night light on. “Night baby girl.” I take the monitor from the cradle downstairs with me.
“Food’s ordered, be about twenty minutes. Now sit, you need to tell me everything that’s happened, and don’t try and lie, I can see those fucking marks on your back.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, referring to my welts the whip had made just two days ago. My body vibrates and hums to life, remembering the way Leighton and Antonio had punished me for answering them back. The fuckers had sat there all day winding me up, getting odd kisses in with each other, stroking one another as they walked past, eye fucking each other wherever they were. I had simply told them to go to fucking hell and fuck each other there, because I hated them.
Well that was a dumb idea. I had ended up restrained to a St. Andrews for an hour, my body tormented, my back and arse whipped, which by the way only made me need to cum all that much more, and then I was refused any release, even now I’m not allowed. It has been two days since it happened and my dam is going to burst. The arousal I feel inside is deadly and fucking mass destructive. I need release badly. I still have two days until Leighton is back, two days. “You do not cum until I get back Abigail, I will know if you have sweetheart. Do you understand me?” he had said to me upon leaving.
“Leighton and Antonio have been training me and the fucks decided to torment and tease me, until I was a brat to them and then they used it against me to punish me, the little fuckers.” I sigh and relax back into the couch, the leather only making the need to cum worse as it pulls my PJ bottoms seam against my clit, sending unwanted surges of pleasure through me. Oh fuck off you stupid orgasm, go fuck yourself.
“God, I remember when the boys were training me, little shits. Damn I miss it so much; I can’t even lie on my front for a good spanking because of this humongous stomach.” She points at her belly, a nice foot imprinting into it.
“I didn’t think it could hurt so good, I crave it now, even the slightest bit of pain. Now he’s refused to let me cum ‘til he’s back. The stupid prick is away for another two days, I’m going to literally die.”
“Ha, orgasm withdrawal, a lot more effective than impact play for sure. Anyways, I’ve been thinking of names for these two cuties in here.” She points to her belly again, and then rubs it. I can see the pride and joy in her twinkling eyes. She is so excited about this, even if most days she is a psychopath.
“Ooh, do tell.” I sit up straighter on the couch, lacing my fingers into one another on my lap.
“Well, we were thinking Thomas Bradley and Joshua Luke; obviously they’ll have the boys’ last name.”
“Oh my god, they are so fricking cute. I love them. They are absolutely perfect.” I am so happy for my best friend; our children will grow up together as friends.
“I can imagine the pair of them fighting over Melissa when they’re older.” I lean back into the sofa again, relaxing.
“Oh god, don’t talk about that already, they aren’t even here yet. I can’t handle thinking about when they’re teenagers. If they’re anything like their fathers, I will be locking them in their room away from any girl.” She rolls her eyes.
“I feel for Melissa, with a father like Leighton, she’ll never have a boyfriend. He’s already an overprotective crazy arse.”
There is a ding at the door as the doorbell rings. “FOOOOD!” Maria jumps from her seat, sprinting to the door down the long corridor. I go to the kitchen and grab plates and cutlery.
“Smells so bloody good,” Maria exclaims as she places the bags down and rubs her noisy tummy; her little men are creating a war inside, battling for first dibs on the food.
We spend the evening chatting and laughing. It feels so good to be arou
nd her again. I feel good in myself; there is no need for the tablets I had once craved like air, no anger, hurt or crazy thoughts. I am once again, the Abbi that Leighton made me.
“I still can’t believe I’m gonna be a mum. It’s so surreal.” Maria is laid back with her legs up on my stretch of the corner unit. I am against the other length, my belly bloated and stuffed with food. God I’ve missed doing this.
“ An awesome feeling isn’t it? It’s scary as hell, but so bloody awesome.” I rub my own stomach, missing finding a bump there.
“I love it, Abbi, and you are sure to have another baby one day. I don’t think Leighton will let you get away with giving him just one. That man loves the bones of your daughter.” I smile as I remember the way he had smothered Melissa’s face in kisses when he had left. Three days away and he’s acting like it is the end of the world.
“Yeah, he really does. He’s an awesome father.” I am jealous as hell that Melissa has someone who loves her so much. I always think back to my childhood at these points, remembering the abuse and neglect I had suffered. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I wouldn’t even wish it on Kalina.
“Abigail, stop doing that, stop thinking about that animal. He’s not here; he’ll never hurt you or your family again. He’s locked away and they aren’t gonna give him the key.” I can feel tears filling my eyes as I think of how much Leighton and this family have done for me.
“Hey, Abbi, that’s enough sweetheart, let’s change the subject shall we? When are you and Leighton planning to remarry then?” she asks me, looking to the engagement ring that once again takes place on my finger.
Leighton had re-proposed to me last month. It had been beautiful, intimate and so goddamn perfect.
“July this year, Mel will be seven months then. It’ll be so damn perfect. Beautiful sunshine, (I hope), the grounds of our home flooded with flowers and green grass. It’ll be excellent.” And of course it will be, with my friends, husband and daughter there, nothing else can compare to the feeling it will bring me.
“That sounds Awe…” there is a noise through the baby monitor, a crackling interference. A deep breath comes through. I look to Maria to see if she has heard it but she seems oblivious. I jump from the sofa, sprinting the halls and stairs to her room to check her.
I lean into her cot to see her. She is sound asleep, just the tiniest little breaths escaping her lips, the tiniest rise and fall of her chest. Her baby monitor is where I left it and she is fine.
I walk back to the lounge where Maria is. “Where did you go off to?” she asks me, confused at my sudden departure.
“I thought I heard something through the monitor.”
“Oh, those things get interference all the bloody time,” she tells me, settling my nerves a little. I suppose I am just on edge from Leighton not being here.
“Yeah, I suppose. It’s getting late; I think I might go to bed honey. Pick a bedroom, there’s plenty of them,” I say to her, as I bend and pick the monitor off the table, kissing her cheek and go upstairs.
I climb into my bed, snuggling into the duvet. I miss Leighton more now. I love his warm, firm body wrapped around me keeping me safe, and as I look to the lipstick heart on the mirror, I miss his strength and protection even more, because the edges now appear smudged and I literally shit myself.
Leighton
It is fucking awkward to say the least. It has been five years since I have stepped foot in this house, five years since my brother and sister had bothered to talk to me. Five long fucking years since I left behind things, that should have meant the world to me.
I sit here on the chesterfield armchair like some rich snob, a tumbler of scotch in my clasp. Brandon, my brother, sits opposite me, avoiding my gaze at all cost. My sister Georgia had called me out of the blue last week, begging for me to come and see them. Some serious shit has gone down in this household and she is in need of my help. Both her and somebody else I wish I had given more of a damn about, than my job.
“Brandon, would you fucking look at me man? Jesus.” I huff out an aggravated breath, getting totally pissed off with his immature brattiness.
“Fuck off Leigh. You’re a worthless piece of shit. If I had my way you wouldn’t ever come back to this house, you fucking arsehole.” He stands from his chair and storms past me, his foot clipping my leg as he goes.
“Brandon, chill the fuck out, we need his help.” Georgia pleads for him to relax. If they weren’t so addictive I would have shoved a packet of Abbi’s pills down his throat.
“WE don’t need that fuck anywhere near us.” I can hear their intense argument in the kitchen.
This house is bigger than my mansion, endless corridors and doors leading to many hidden places. I have so many memories here, good and bad, and some that I just wish I could eradicate forever. Hearing my sister’s fright through the phone, hearing that my auntie, the woman who looked after a piece of my heart and soul was murdered, gave me no time to think whatsoever. I packed a bag, grabbed my keys and left. There is no way I could tell Abbi why I left in such a rush. It isn’t for my auntie, I hardly knew the woman really. But she has been looking after him for the past five years, and if she is dead, then I am too fucking scared to think what has happened to the little guy.
I want to say it’s Brandon’s stubbornness that kept me away, that he kicked me to the curb when my father left this world, but I’d be lying. I ran, I ran fast and hard until I hit the furthest point away from all of them. I had nothing going for me; I couldn’t look after myself let alone my family. Everywhere I looked, I saw my mother and I saw him, the cruel bastard that had severed my soul into a million pieces, taking my heart along with it.
I had become addicted to finding revenge. Addicted, like a fucking drug, leaving my family without any remorse just to find him. After the two years it took me, finally ending his miserable life, I had pushed myself too far away even to return. I make it easier on myself, telling my head that they did this, they pushed me away and refused to contact me, but everything was on me. I told them to keep him, I told them to never talk to me again as I wasn’t any good for them. I wasn’t the Leighton they all knew growing up. I was a dangerous, merciless man, with a streak overpowering him that wasn’t safe to be around.
The kill was far more important than the blood pumping through my veins, connecting me to my siblings, Joseph and to my mother.
“Yes, yes we fucking do Brandon and you know it. You said you were handling it but look at you, you stupid fuck, another fucking family member dead because of your arrogance and self-pity. Joe, that poor fucking boy, scared to death, unable to sleep properly without seeing it, without remembering his auntie’s face bleeding. If you had just listened to me to begin with, none of this would have bloody happened. Now, pull your head out of your arse, go and apologise to our brother and sort the last bits of our family we have remaining, or so help me god I will walk out of that fucking door and never speak to you again. And I will be taking the kid.” My heart calms a little in my chest, as I hear he is okay, that Joseph is unharmed.
I have never heard my baby sister so passionate. At twenty-three she is a force to be reckoned with now, she has always been so timid and shy; now I think I could use her on my team.
“Sort out this family? Are you for real Georgia? It’s because of that arsehole we’re ripped apart at the seams to begin with. Have you forgotten he’s the reason OUR parents are dead. God, you seriously are a naïve little bitch, if you think I’d even consider his help.” I hear the slap as it hits his face. I feel angry at the way he has spoken to my sister, and so fucking proud of her for sticking up for herself. She was always treated like a delicate little flower the whole of our childhood.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that Brandon, who the fuck do you think you are? I stopped talking to my brother for you. You selfish prick. I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. I have lost five years with him and you will not stop me from seeing
him ever again. Get your fucking arse out there and sort this out. At least give him a chance to tell us what happened. You have sat there for five years blaming him, but not once did you bother to see that it could have been our stupid fucking father’s fault. He’s the reason Leighton does what he does. Where do you think he learnt it from you fuck head?” God the girl is on fire, it is amazing to hear the passion and drive in her voice. I feel a pain inside my chest at the thought of the lost time with her. I have always cherished her, been close to her. She is my baby sister for fuck sake.
“What the fuck are you going on about Georgia? Dad would never do what Leighton does. He has always been fantastic to us, the best father we could ever have.” Brandon knows full well our father was a lying, cheating, dangerous man. He knows what it feels like to be at the end of his violent wrath. Fuck, he knows I’ve taken more than one hit for him to stop his tiny body from absorbing it. He is either delusional or in denial.
“FUCK. You are really fucking stupid. I’m the fucking youngest and even I have seen it. Did you not ever wonder how Leighton knew how to shoot at the age of bloody twelve? How dad even had a gun? No?” I chuckle at my sister, from my perch on the chair where my scotch warms me.
“For protection.” His anger is evident in the bite of his tone.
“Yes, because it’s legal for people to get guns in the UK. You are seriously fucking dumb Brandon. I can’t deal with this now, I have my brother out there, who I haven’t seen in five fucking years and I am going to go and give him a cuddle and tell him how much I have missed him, and how sorry I am that I let a silly fuck like you impair my fucking thoughts. If you kept your fucking nose out of the computer for long enough you’d have seen how dad worked and how he always brought trouble to our house, you dickhead.” I hear a glass clatter into the sink and the heels of my sister’s boots cross the landing back into the enormous drawing room of my childhood home.
I stand up when I see her tiny frame come into view. She is all of five foot in height, and seven stone nothing, but her newfound confidence and personality overpowers her size by a monstrous amount.
Dauntless (The LockDown Series Book 2) Page 17